


Chiaroscuro

by DerKnochenbrecher



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Everybody Lives, Interbellum, M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5692882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerKnochenbrecher/pseuds/DerKnochenbrecher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shudder can’t sleep without a light; Larrikin can only sleep in the dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chiaroscuro

The war had ended and life was beginning to resume, in as much as there _was_ such a thing as “normal life” after lifetimes of war. Anton had been so eager, in his own quiet way, to leave the battlefield, to take up a life away from politics and turmoil, to enjoy this new-fashioned peace with the man he loved. So much so that he hadn’t quiet grasped that it might bring its own troubles, or indeed its own sense of sorrow and necessary compromise.

 

Even once the decommissioning was over and done with, the set up required for the Midnight Hotel had taken up so much time, with so many problems to resolve to create the refuge he and Larrikin sought, that at first there hadn’t any room for personal issues. Still, Anton had noticed the shadows under Larrikin’s eyes and how his smile had slowed from his tiredness. Of course he had. He just hadn’t quite put the pieces together as to why, nor had he had the moment to ask.

 

But looking at him lying in bed, propped up on pillows as he waited for Anton to join him, he looked pale enough to cause concern.

 

“Is there something wrong?” Anton asked, breaking the silence. He could have been gentler, but if there was a problem, he wanted to resolve it as soon as possible. That was the best course of action.

 

“Hmm?” Larrikin’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at Anton as he sat up. “Ah, no, not really. Just tired.”

 

Anton brushed his fingers along Larrikin’s bare shoulder, still amazed that he was able to do this. That both of them were alive, and together, and they could remain that way for as long as they wished.

 

 “I’m sorry,” he said. “The work will be done soon, and it will become easier. Besides, it’s not as bad as it was on campaign.”

 

Larrikin’s smile became a crooked grin as he remembered. “That’s sure true. Of all the things I might come to miss, the sleeping arrangements are not going to be one of them. I get to keep my favourite part of that, so there’s no need to want for it.” He looked over at Anton, who couldn’t help but smile in return.

 

“Good, then,” Anton said. “But if there’s anything that I can do for you…”

 

Larrikin tilted his head as he thought. “Well, there could be… That light? Could you turn it off?”

 

Anton glanced at the light he had indicated – indeed, the only light currently on. It was a small one, with a shade that darkened it to just below a level where one could comfortably read. And it was electric, still something of a marvel to those who had lived most of their lives by sun- and firelight. The ability to keep a light source on all night and day without the risk of setting everything on fire was something Anton wasn’t soon to take for granted. The two of them had made sure that the Hotel would have all the luxuries that had been made available – running water, heat, a telephone line and electricity in every room. He was rather proud of it, in fact.

 

“Oh,” he said. “Yes, I could.”

 

“Why do you keep that on?” Larrikin asked, in the silence before Anton moved to do as he asked.

 

Anton hesitated, unsure of how it would sound once he said it aloud. “It…” he said. “I kept it on because it grew too difficult to sleep in the dark. Whenever I woke up, it would be in a panic because I couldn’t see where I was and I assumed that – something had happened.”

 

His hands tightened into fists. He didn’t say what he had found himself fearing. Larrikin knew.

 

There was a pause, and at the end of it Larrikin said, “Leave it on, then. I’ll get used to it.”

 

Anton turned back to him, frowning. In the half-light, it was difficult to read his expression. Then he smiled, and gave a shrug that made Anton’s heart hurt to see the sadness in.

 

“I was – having some trouble sleeping with it on,” he said. “It wasn’t much of a bother when it was all of us together, because there was always someone awake with the light, but now that it’s just the two of us… It the Temple, they taught us to keep in the dark as much as possible. In the dark my magic can protect me, even without my focus being at hand.”

 

He glanced at his black demi-gauntlet. He’d left it on the cabinet on the other side of the room, having decided to put a physical distance between himself and his primary weapon. He refused to bow his head to the Necromancers long enough to have it re-forged into something less military and its existence was a necessity.  Creating a physical break between him and it was the only way he felt he could truly relax. Anton, who wouldn’t be able to separate himself from his war-bound magic no matter how peace lasted, envied him that.

 

Anton’s hand was still hovering over the switch.

 

“But sleeping alone would be worse,” Larrikin went on. “So I’m not about to let that happen. And if yer going to have trouble sleeping, you keep it on. It’s not so much of a bother. I’ll need to learn how to live without the constant threat of death one of these days.”

 

“As will I,” Anton said. “So it’s no trouble.”

 

Larrikin shook his head. “Don’t be stubborn. I forfeited first.”

 

Anton hesitated, torn between doing what Larrikin had told him to do and giving himself the rest he desired, and giving that same to Larrikin.

 

“If yer that concerned…” There was a glint in Larrikin’s eye that Anton realised he hadn’t seen in some time, a look that said mischief wasn’t far off. “You can do something else for me while I adjust to it.”

 

“Like what?” Anton asked, raising an eyebrow. But he let his hand drop.

 

Larrikin shrugged. “Oh, you know. Make me tea before bed, let me take you out every once in a while… Tire me out. Things like that.”

 

Anton smiled, sitting down on the bed. “I think I can manage that.” He picked up Larrikin’s hand. “You can give me a hundred sit-ups,” he said, naming an exercise he knew Larrikin hated.

 

Larrikin paused as he realised what Anton had said. “… That wasn’t what I had in mind and you know it.”

 

Anton couldn’t help but smile, and he bowed his head he brushed his lips against Larrikin’s knuckles to hide it. “I know,” he said.

 

“You’re terrible at jokes.”

 

“I know. Larrikin?”

 

“Hm?”

 

Anton paused a moment, placing his other hand over Larrikin’s so he was holding it as though to keep him warm.

 

“If there is anything that troubles you,” he said. “Please tell me, as soon as you feel you’re able. I will help you to resolve it.”

 

Larrikin smiled crookedly once more. “Yeah. Thanks. I just thought I could manage on my own.”

 

“You’re not on your own,” Anton said.

 

Larrikin closed his eyes. His eyelashes were hard to see in this light, and his freckles seemed darker. He tightened his fingers around Anton’s hand.

 

“I know,” he said finally. “But please – Anton. If you’re going to make me tell you whenever I’m having trouble, I expect you to do the same.”

 

“I think I can manage that.”

 

“I know you can.” Larrikin’s smile changed again, becoming its usual mischievous self. Anton couldn’t help but reflect his expression, though softer, less assured. “And now… As it happens, I’m not feeling especially tired right now. You should fix this with me.”

 

He adjusted his grip, so that he was holding Anton’s hand.

 

“I know you can manage that, too.”

 

“Of course,” Anton replied, and pushed him back down onto the pillows with a kiss.


End file.
